


I Think? I'm Not Sure Though.

by britishflower



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: Amnesia, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-05-17 03:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishflower/pseuds/britishflower
Summary: a young man with no memory tries to figure out who he was but what truth lies before him, does he want to remember?





	1. Chapter 1

A young man, maybe no less than 18 wondered the empty railroad tracks deep underground. His right eye hurt, a strong achingly sharp pain in it. He remembered somethimg sharp going in and pulling it out but the pain was blank in his mind.

There was silver covering his hand from his eye. Was that his blood? No, no he remembered his blood being... Red? Yeah, yeah that must haveb been it. It was red but what was his name? That seemed really important to him right now. What was his name.

Weak memories danced over his mind.

_A boy just older than him with black hair and Amber eyes. He was saying something. The words slow and soft. Cal._

Cal. Cal. The teen whispered it to himself "Cal." It didn't settle right. Maybe Cal was his last name? It seemed to fit especially in his mind. Cal felt familiar like a last name for him. So if his last name is Cal what was his first name?

_Thomas!_

The thought crossed so fast he almost jumped. Thomas? Was that his name? He muttered it to himself "Thomas. Thomas Cal." It felt right. The words rolling across his tongue with ease like it was natural. Yes. His name was Thomas Cal.

He couldn't remember right now but he was probably a red. He could see it in his head, the red covering his hands. He must have been. So who's silver blood was on his hands?

Did it matter? Silvers were powerful and hurt reds. Thomas knew he was a red and refused to believe that the silver blood on his hands were innocent.

Thomas stopped, he was attempting to come up with something. He needed to remember as if his life dependrd on it. Just one thing, anything that could give him answers to his empty questions.

....

......

.........

Nothing. He couldn't come up with anything. Plus if he was trying to remember anything then what was it he wanted to remember? What happened? Who he is? Where he's from? WHY HIS EYE HURTS SO BAD?

Thomas sighed, standing around would get him nowhere. If he wanted answers he'd have to find somebody to give him some.

He continued into the tunnel, blindly walking in the dark to wherever it may lead. Only one though remained, that wherever he was going would be a good place that can give him some answers.

It was going to be a really long walk for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas looked up the moment he was out of the long, dark tunnel. It was night time, the moon and stars decorating the black sky. He smiled at the sight and continued out on the grassy plain before him. 

 

He laid down after a moment. He closed his good eye and breathed in the cold, brisk air. It felt better than the dusty air from inside the tunnel. Thomas opened his eyes, taking in the bright full moon and the thousands upon thousands of stars.

 

His mind wandered. While he was taking this break then he could try to see what else he remembered about himself. Memories passed by through short, insufferable flashes.

 

Forgotten People.

 

Erased Names.

 

Abandoned Places.

 

Blurry faces.

 

Red Blood.

 

Silver Blood.

 

RedBlood.

 

SilverBlood.

 

REDBLOOD.SILVERBLOOD.REDBLOOD.SILVERBLOODREDBLOODSILVERBLOODREDBLOODSILVERREDSILVERREDSLIVEREDSILVERRED

 

Thomas gasped as he ripped himself from his thoughts. No way, that was too much. What had that been from? What memory had so much blood? 

 

He stumbled up and began walking again. He definitely wasn't going to try to remember anything anytime soon after that giant cluster fuck. Maybe he should find a less open place to sleep.

 

\-------

 

Thomas had kept walking until he reached a farm house. The injuried young man went the barn near the house. He didn't trust that the house was empty and wasn't planning to risk his good eye so soon. He pushed the barn door open enough to wiggle in then pushed it back closed. Thomas took in the neat little setting he had before him. 

 

Mostly barren dirt. The Hay was old and looked like it hadn't been cleaned in ages. There wasn't any farming equipment in here, not like he would recognize farming equipment, and it was growing small patches of grass. 

 

Thomas laid onto the ground and closed his eyes. His brain pulling up a thought 'Beggars can't be choosers Bieriats.'

 

\-------

 

Thomas woke up. His breathing sharp and horrified, the last fringes of the memory already fletting before he could grab them. He laid on the ground and stared at the ceiling of the barn for a tad bit longer. What memory was that? What had happened that caused him to wake up so scared?

 

He got up, no use in needing to remember. Another day. Another travel.

 


End file.
